


Melted Souls

by Lire_Casander



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, Suicide Attempt, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-06
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 05:07:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 8,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lire_Casander/pseuds/Lire_Casander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has a breaking point. Even the Boy Who Lived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. While You Fall Apart

Everyone had told him that post-war effects could be horrible, but he really wasn't ready for _that_. Hearing their voices over and over again was slowly tearing him apart.

Draco looked at Harry as the dark haired man clutched a piece of paper in his hand and started rocking – back and forth, forth and back – drawing blood as his nails tore the paper and digged in his palm. Draco knew what his boyfriend would do next.

Harry started writing on the wall of his cell in St Mungo's psychiatric ward. And with each letter, Draco's heart died a little.

M-U-R-D-E-R-E-R


	2. I Am Falling Too

The blood had dried on the wall, leaving an indelible stamp. Draco stared at it, his mind blank, before letting his gaze settle on the broken figure sleeping in the bed. He let out a sigh and shook his head.

He couldn't fool anyone anymore. It wasn't right, it didn't even feel like it would be right _ever_. Yet he wasn't ready to let go. Not now, not like that.

He loved Harry Potter – he had fought against everyone who had dared to tell him it wouldn't work. He wasn't going to give up when Harry needed him the most.


	3. Boy Who Lived

Draco looked at the stack of papers before him, not daring to pick one. He already knew what they said – it didn't make his choice easier. If anything, his decision became harder.

He closed his eyes, hoping that the _Sunday Prophets_ would disappear if he just wanted them to, but no matter what, the papers were still there.

He stretched out his right hand and touched the crumpled surface, almost worn out of too many readings, over and over again. But his mind just repeated the word Harry had written on the wall.

Draco still needed a reason to stay.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

_Sunday August 11th, 1996_

**Boy Who Lived To Fight Last Battle**

Harry Potter, age seventeen, is supposed to defeat He Who Must Not Be Named tonight, in what seems to be the longest battle of the whole war.

Potter and his supporters, a group called the Order of the Phoenix, have been fighting against a siege at Hogwarts for two weeks now, even though the Death Eaters have cut off all supply routes to the castle.

 _Sunday Prophet_ , from our safe hiding place out of England, will keep on promptly updating our readers with any news about this Second War.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

_Sunday August 18th, 1996_

**Boy Who Lived To Be In A Coma**

Harry Potter, Hero of the Wizarding World, remains unconscious in a bed at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, suffering from a yet unknown hex which reached him during the Battle of Hogwarts.

The definitive defeat of Tom Riddle (Lord Voldermort) a week ago has freed our people while our saviour is left to recover alone, with no one to take care of him.

 _Sunday Prophet_ wishes to show our support to Harry, and from our renewed location in Muggle London we hope he recovers soon.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

_Sunday September 1st, 1996_  
 **Boy Who Lived To See His Secrets Spilled**

Percy Weasley, third son of deceased Arthur Weasley, has declared to _Sunday Prophet_ that Harry Potter is gay. Such news has been received with some reservations due to the impossibility of proving them right.

Apparently, this news has come to light because of Potter's last will, archived at the Ministry of Magic. It seems Potter leaves everything he has to his 'beloved' Draco Malfoy, son of imprisoned Death Eater Lucius Malfoy. It is evident now the reason why this man has spent the last month at Potter's headboard.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

_Sunday August 24th, 1997_

**Boy Who Lived To Wake Up**

Harry Potter, age eighteen, has finally woken from his year-long coma. _Sunday Prophet_ wishes to congratulate the Weasley family and Miss Hermione Granger, who have been taking care of him during these past months, and we are glad he is back.

At this moment, it seems Potter is unable to take care of himself, and doctors state it may take a long while before he will be able to do so. Draco Malfoy, his alleged boyfriend, has refused to speak to the press, as have the Weasleys and Miss Granger.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

_Sunday November 1st, 1998_

**Boy Who Lived To Be Permanently Damaged**

After a whole year of rehabilitation, Harry Potter can finally walk and talk on his own, but a new discovery has struck Wizarding Society. The Hero had been severly affected by several Dark curses, some of them yet unknown, and doctors say he may be psychologically damaged.

Draco Malfoy has talked to _Sunday Prophet_ today to declare: 'Harry may not feel the same yet, but he is the same boy everyone knew. That has not changed.'

From _Sunday Prophet_ , we wish to send our support to Wizarding Society’s Saviour.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

_Sunday August 1st, 1999_

**Boy Who Lived To Be Admitted To Pschychiatric Ward**

Harry Potter, Hero of the Wizarding World, has been admitted in St. Mungo's Pschychiatric Ward for an indefinite period of time. None of his closest people have given an explanation to the press, but our sources inside the hospital have stated that Potter suffers from an incurable mental illness.

He has been seen making himself bleed and writing with his own blood on the walls of his room. We are not sure what Draco Malfoy thinks of the disturbing word Potter writes over and over again.

Murderer.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Draco shook his head and let the last Sunday paper fall to the ground. He looked tired, defeated – as if he had just given up.

Someone knocked on the wooden door, startling him. "Draco," Hermione whispered when he looked up. "Draco, it's time. We should be going."

"I don't want to go, 'Mione. I don't feel I can do this." He sounded as helpless as he felt.

She stepped into the room and stretched out a hand. Draco hesitated but took it in the end. He needed some strength before breaking all his dreams in millions of tiny, impossible-to-retrieve pieces.

 


	4. Death Eater's Son

Hermione had an inkling about what Draco might have decided, and she was scared. Scared that they all had pressed Draco into something he didn't want. Afraid that, if he made the wrong choice, he would blame them. Terrified that Harry ever found our his only love had flown away long time ago.

She had seen the change in Draco. She had seen him become a hero in the midst of a war – she had seen the Death Eater's son become a torch to the Light. All for love.

She would never forgive herself if Draco decided against his heart.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The corridor that led to Harry's cell was long enough for Draco to remember all his life while he tried not to think about the decision he had made. Hermione hadn't loosened her grip on his hand, and he realized he felt safer when she held him.

He needed reassurance, because he didn't want to lose it all, but what could he do when everyone kept telling him to go on with his life? They didn't seem to care about his feelings for Harry. Draco sighed – maybe everyone had a point.

Or maybe it was time to change his mind.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Harry was in the middle of the cell when Draco had a look inside. The brunet seemed so small, alone in a room without windows, echos of tears resounding everywhere. Draco breathed deeply, and stepped inside, the bars of the door closing behind him. Feeling trapped in a nightmare, Draco caressed Harry's hair as soon as he got by his boyfriend's side.

"What have you done today, love?" he asked.

Harry didn't answer with words, but tilted his head so Draco could see those impossible green eyes. What he found in them made Draco hold his breath without even noticing.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Harry slowly stood up and approached the nearest wall, the one in front of the door. Carefully, as if it was the most important task in the world, he wrote three words with his finger coated in something that seemed ink..

When Hermione read them, her heart clenched. How could _that_ be possible?

When Draco read them, he knew what he had to do. Everything was clear in his mind – it was easier than switching sides for love during the war. He couldn't break his own world in pieces.

There was always hope in a jade gaze.

D-O-N-T

L-E-A-V-E

M-E  



	5. Deep Down The Core

Darkness.

There was only darkness – not a single dim light. And he was alone. Where was everyone else? Why couldn't he hear any sounds around him? He had defeated Voldemort, he was sure of that, because he had seen the green light hitting the Dark Wizard's chest right before he avoided an _Avada Kedavra_ from Voldemort. So why wasn't he partying with his friends?

 _Of course,_ he thought. Bellatrix had attacked him afterwards with dark spells. He couldn't recall exactly what or when, but one of her hexes had reached him and made him stumble backwards until he was falling.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

He tried to move a hand, only to find it trapped by some sort of binding spell. _What the hell?_ he wondered, frowning even though he was sure he couldn't move any part of his body. He tried again in an attempt to break the magic working on him, but it was to no avail.

 _I need Draco,_ he realized. _He can help me out of this, whatever it is, even if the remaining Death Eaters have captured me._ He opened his mouth to call his boyfriend's name when he realized something.

No sound could come out of his throat.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

He was alone. There was no one to turn to in the darkness that surrounded him – he had lost count of the days he had been stuck in there. Nobody could actually hear his non-existent voice, and he had grown tired of fighting the bindings that held him still in that place in the middle of nowhere.

Strange sounds came from the distance and reached him as echoes in the room. Voices that called him a name. He turned his head to the source of the noises, but he could see nothing.

Then the whispers began, low and harsh.

_Murderer._

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

He needed Draco. Not to take him out of that nightmare – that too – but to hold him while he slowly lost his mind. The voices had become louder, and they filled his head with horrible memories of what he had done, who he had killed, how many dark spells he had used.

There was no end to his pain, and the bindings keeping him in place tightened around his wrists and ankles whenever the voices spoke. And they were never quiet.

"No one will come to save you," the voices told him, confident and hateful.

So true. Draco never came.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Despair.

He was alone in the middle of a darkness he didn't understand, he knew he didn't deserve that but he was still suffering, and Draco had long since left him. He had gotten used to not being able to speak at all – his voice was lost somewhere deep inside his soul, though it felt like he didn't have any soul left. There was nothing to turn to. Only darkness and those voices talking him into believing he was a killer.

He told to himself that he could survive being a solitary man, yet he didn't believe any of it.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

He was freefalling. He had no idea from where to where, and he didn't know whether there would be an end to that horrible feeling of diving into space. He was just falling, and the voices repeated over and over again words of hatred and regret.

"Murderer!" they screamed.

Then, another voice, one he had been yearning to hear. "Harry, I am here. I'll never leave, but please come back to me. I love you."

As if those were magic words, the bindings loosened their grip and he was free. He opened his eyes and found himself surrounded by light.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Intertwined fingers. A feeling of pure peace. A smile on soft lips. Silvery eyes that looked back at his own with a mix of relief, love and something indescribable.

He was home again.

His movements were slow and difficult, for he had spent the year unconscious in a bed at St. Mungo's. He could only imagine how hard it must have been for Draco to stay day after day, night after night, by his side without actually being able to be _with_ him.

He smiled and opened his mouth to thank Draco.

Again, he found himself with a lost voice.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Days had passed, months had slipped away, and he was back at St. Mungo's. Even though Draco had tried to understand him, it had been impossible for the blond. So many obstacles to overcome, so many unspoken words, so many troubles, and they had thought all those had been left behind when the war ended.

They had been wrong.

He looked at his hands, crimson tainting his pale skin. He could only hear those voices inside of his head, trying to find a way to his brain. He closed his eyes, but they didn't disappear.

What if they were right?

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

He was unable to speak. He was unable to focus on anything but those eight letters written in blood on the wall of his cell.

M-U-R-D-E-R-E-R

He frowned. That was not what he had intended to say. He had been trying to communicate with the rest of the world from his hiding spot somewhere in his soul, but it seemed that whenever he tried to escape, the voices came back full force.

He couldn't fight them anymore. Yet he had to try again. He had to make Draco understand.

Eight letters later, he shut his eyes and started to cry.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

He had been feeling it, whatever it was. It kept growing inside of him, settling in places he didn't know existed. It had started a couple of days before.

Draco had been visiting him in his cell everyday. And he always beamed, even though his eyes never mirrored the feeling of mirth his lips tried to send. But, during the last visit, Draco had seemed a bit off, distracted, lost. After his last kiss goodbye, he hadn't seen his boyfriend for two days. Then, it struck him right in the middle of his aching heart.

Draco was going to leave him.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

He stared at the white wall, which was painted every night right after he swallowed his sleeping pills, only one thought fixed in his head. He had to pass through the mental wards his mind had set; he had to defeat the voices screaming inside of him.

He had to make Draco believe there was still something of the Harry he loved under this skin he barely recognized as his own. He had to convince his unfailing boyfriend to keep the faith. And he knew exactly how.

He summoned some ink with the last bits of magic he had.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

He slowly stood up and approached the nearest wall, the one in front of the door. Carefully, as if it was the most important task in the world, he started to write three words with his finger coated in ink.

He had only that chance to break through his own mind and push the voices away for good. And maybe, just maybe, he would be able to live his life again, to laugh and joke with his friends. To tell Draco he loved him.

He had to believe that there was still hope in a silver gaze.

D-O-N-T

L-E-A-V-E

M-E  



	6. On The Outside

"We still don't know the reason why he wrote those words, but we can assure you it is no sign for a miraculous recovery. Mr. Potter is clearly in some advanced stages of schizophrenia, and not even magic can save him. I'm afraid he'll have to stay secluded in our psychiatric ward for the rest of his life," the mediwizard announced.

Hermione's grip on Draco's shoulders tightened as Ron closed his eyes. _Bad news for everyone_ , thought the redhead. _I don't know if Draco'll ever be able to get over this... He shouldn't lose Harry, at least not this way._

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"I won't leave him, Hermione!" Draco was yelling in St. Mungo's waiting room. "I'm not leaving him! He needs me!"

"Draco, please, calm down, here." Hermione motioned for him to sit down, but Draco shook his head and resumed his frantic movements. "It was a reflection. Draco, as much as I wished for this to happen, the mediwizards were clear. Harry will not recover from this. Everything that seems to be an improvement is just a reflection of what he will become. Harry won't be the same, and I don't want you to waste your life watching him fade away."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Harry, I know you're still there. Please, give me a signal, _anything_. Please. I'm here, I won't leave you, but please, please, please, don't let go--- I can't do this without you."

Draco was pleading, knelt in front of Harry's bed at St. Mungo's, looking down at his lover, asleep after having been fed with some fruit and a vial of Dreamless Sleep draught.

"Harry, I don't know what's going on in your mind, but please don't give up. Harry, please don't give up on me. I love you--- I love you."

His voice broke and he started crying again.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"A week has passed, and Mr. Potter shows no improvement," the mediwizard said in a soothing voice. "We will be moving him to the upper ward."

Draco was too shocked to even react. The upper ward was reserved to people like the Longbottoms – wizards that held no hope for a future.

"When will this moving take place?" asked Molly Weasley, who stood by his side this time.

"In two days' time."

Draco ignored her worried gaze and stared through the glass straight to Harry, _his_ Harry, rocking back and forth, forth and back.

There was blood dripping from his hands.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Knockturn Alley was as horrible as he remembered. He blinked, eyes fighting to adjust to the darkness surrounding him, while he searched the street for that door – the shop he had been told about when he enroled in Voldemort's army out of fear.

When he found it, he didn't bother to knock.

"Mr. Malfoy, it's so good to see you here again," a whispering voice welcomed him.

"Shut up. Give me what I've come to retrieve. Do you have it?"

"Of course, Mr. Malfoy, here it is." The glass of a vial shone in the darkness. "Here it is."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Draco Malfoy never saw the face of the wizard in that establishment in Knockturn Alley – his only concern was to get out of there as soon as possible. He took the vial and ran out.

Once in the street, he observed the vial without label. _Such a powerful potion_ , he thought. _Exactly what I need._

He toyed with the glass for a while, making it roll between his fingers, trying to make the right decision. Seconds flew away painfully – a flash of bright eyes and warm voice.

Draco Malfoy opened the vial and downed its content in one swift gulp.


	7. On The Inside

He knew he had to Apparate home before the potion's effects took over his body and he would not be able to control them. Yet he couldn't move. He needed to feel the pain of the rough liquid going down his throat and burning his stomach – burning his soul.

Clutching his wand, he leant in the wall that separated both Knockturn Alley and Diagon Alley and took in a deep breath. His fingers trembled and his whole body ached – he had started the trip he was looking for when he entered the filthy shop.

A whisper later, he was gone.

*-*-*-*-*-*

Rail tracks. That was when he realised he was having hallucinations, because he had never ever felt attracted to rail tracks. And nevertheless, he was seeing something he would have never paid attention to. Unless...

Unless he wasn't in his head but in someone else's. Someone who really cared about rail tracks and what they meant – a trip to Hogwarts and a trip to hell. Draco tried to shook his head but it was like he was trapped somewhere – he didn't have control over his body. It was as if he wasn't in his body at all.

Maybe he wasn't.

*-*-*-*-*-*

Spinning around in what seemed an endless cycle of spurting colours and gravity, Draco Malfoy lost all sense of time and space, unable to grasp any consciousness of where he stood when he finally stopped moving.

He was in a corridor where a dim light made its way through layers of curtains, in a place that seemed forgotten to the world. He frowned, although he had understood where he was. The potion had had its effect on his mind, and he was finally where he wanted to be.

He only had to find the door leading to the final room.

*-*-*-*-*-*

The Room of Requirement had to be there, after having walked past the wall three times in a row thinking of what he wanted the most. Yet, the door didn't appear, and Draco was growing restless.

It wasn't supposed to be easy, that he knew, because Dark Magic was never harmless and finding the path to Harry's mind – or any other mind for that matter – had been painful. But now that he was there, he couldn't give up.

He couldn't leave Harry to his own mind anymore, when it made him suffer – it was time for Draco to save him.

*-*-*-*-*-*

He noticed a candle lighting the dark corridor, near enough for him to feel it but beyond his reach. It was burning slowly, almost painfully, Draco thought, even though he wasn't sure it was his own thought or one he shared with Harry, now that he was looking for the dark-haired man in his own secluded mind.

Draco wasn't at ease at all with wandering around his thoughts and feelings. Suddenly he felt a rush of something cold passing besides him – Draco identified it as helplessness searching for a way out, and he feared Harry was giving up.

He blinked.

*-*-*-*-*-*

Draco Malfoy was frantically looking for a way to enter the Room of Requirement in Harry's Hogwarts. Feelings kept coming out from somewhere inside, brushing past him, and they were more and more desperate. Harry was letting go of everything but his feelings for Draco and the blond didn't like how it felt to witness Harry's pain without actually seeing him.

"I know you're in there, Harry!" he shouted, out of fear and distress. "Hold on, I'm right here! Don't give up!"

He collapsed on the floor crying and almost missed a door opening in the middle of the wall.

*-*-*-*-*-*

He tiptoed inside the room. Draco couldn't help thinking that he was looking in the wrong place, he hadn't found anything but emptiness and desperation and he was growing tired. If the door closed behind him before the potion worn out, he would be trapped in Harry's mind with no one to go on his rescue – he hadn't told anyone what he was going to do.

"Harry," he said. "Harry, please, I know you can hear me. Please let me get to you, I can help you. Please let me get to you in time."

His pleas found no response.

*-*-*-*-*-*

There was a Pensieve in the nearest table, he saw. The device glowed with a green, appealing light that caught his attention. Draco walked towards the Pensieve and without much thought he submerged his head in the greenish substance floating in it.

Twisters of colours danced around him once again, and it was like flying but without any broom to hold on to. Draco finally landed on what seemed to be a living room, with a big window, on a bright and sunny day – probably during summer.

It looked a lot like how their perfect house'd be – his and Harry's.

*-*-*-*-*-*

There was a couch in that living room, but from where he was standing it was hardly possible for him to see who was laying on it. Soft sounds came from it – giggles, whispers and breaths.

Draco pursed his lips in disgust – he didn't like the idea of spying. He knew, however, that he couldn't prevent them from going on with their activities. He was just a mere watcher trapped in a memory.

He had a glimpse of a dark pink cushion popping over the edge of the couch, and two pairs of feet on it, caressing each other lovingly.

*-*-*-*-*-*

"Harry," he heard his voice asking, but he hadn't made a sound. Draco understood then that they were the people on the couch, Harry and himself, just laying there enjoying a bit of peace. "Harry, I love you."

Then it hit him – the scene, the moment, the words. The summer before Harry had been admitted to St. Mungo's, they had spent countless days on that very same couch, just staying in each other's arms. It was not only Harry's memory he was watching – it was his as well.

Harry was hidden somewhere in that memory, where they both were happy.

*-*-*-*-*-*

Draco left the room of their shared cottage in Wiltshire and walked upstairs, with the intention of finding Harry. He looked around each and every room upstairs, opening the wardrobes and holding up the bed bases in order not to leave any place unsearched.

In the end, there was only the room at the bottom of the stairs left – the room where they had a small bed and a big window with views all over the county. Draco heard a small whimper coming from the inside, and he fought with the wood to open it.

"I'll get to you, Harry!"

*-*-*-*-*-*

The damned door just wouldn't open, Draco feared while pulling at the knob unsuccessfully. The whimpers inside were louder within the second, and he was trying his best to enter the room where Harry used to hide whenever he felt down. Draco felt the tingle of magic calling for him to come back, the spell within the Pensieve – the spell within the potion he'd consumed before.

"No, Harry, Harry!" he yelled, tugging at the knob frantically. "Harry, hold on!"

"Draco?" His name was barely a whisper, but he heard it a second before being pulled away by an unknown force.


	8. From The Blues

"I don't know where he can be," Hermione whispered to Ron. "He's never _this_ late, Ron. And we have to make a decision just now."

Ron Weasley shook his head, eyeing the blond who entered the waiting room in St. Mungo's nearly an hour later than usually. "Here he is. I bet he just overslept. He underwent a lot of pressure last week, 'Mione. It's just normal."

Draco Malfoy looked lost, dishevelled, blinking and searching around him for something that was not there. Hermione stepped forward and caressed his arm in a soothing movement.

"Draco, we're here. You're not alone."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Harry was rocking back and forth in his white cell, Draco could state. Nothing had changed, yet everything was different. He now knew the truth, where Harry Potter was hiding while his body insisted on taking over his mind – now he only had to convince the rest that he was right and the mediwizards were wrong.

"Draco," Ron said, getting closer. "Draco, have you made your decision yet?"

Draco averted his eyes from the figure inside the cell just a moment, and Ron could see in them a sparkling that wasn't there before – a sparkling that was halfway towards insanity.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Yes," he said clearly. "I have."

Everyone looked at him while he swallowed – not only his fears but his hurt as well – while he tried to muster up the courage to say what he was about to say.

"I'm not leaving him, as you should know by now. So, what I am asking is for a bed in Harry's room. If you think he should stay here for the rest of his days, then I'll spend a lifetime with him, as I promised."

"But, Mr. Malfoy---"

He burst out of the room, not expecting anyone to come after him.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"He's lost his mind," mumbled Hermione two days later, when she went back to visit Harry for the last time. "We've decided to go on with our lives, and he just upped and got locked in a psychiatric ward."

"What would you do for love?" Molly Weasley smiled sadly. "It breaks my heart, but I have to let him go as well... I've lost so many loved ones in this war, and he is just the last. The one that has fought the most, but has fallen from higher."

Hermione pursed her lips, sensing the blues creeping in her soul.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

" _How many bridges I've got to cross? How many times must I explain myself?_ " Draco sang in a low voice. " _How many times must I say I love you, before you finally understand? I'll try to be your forever man._ "

They were separated by a crystal wall, and even though he could see Harry, Draco had never felt more alone. Following his wish, he had been placed in a room next to Harry's, but with no chance to actually be _with_ Harry. It was slowly driving him insane.

Or maybe it was what he was looking for – enter Harry's world.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"I've Flooed you because I have news," announced the mediwizard a month later. "There has been an improvement in Mr. Potter's case."

Hermione nearly fainted at the words. "An improvement?" she drawled. "What kind of improvement? Does Draco know? Where's he, anyway?"

"Slow down, hon," tried to reason Ron. "Let the doctor speak."

"I'd rather you'd see it," the mediwizard smiled. "It's like a miracle."

Molly, Ron and Hermione followed him to Harry's cell, where they could witness _it_. They all had to agree – it was a miracle indeed.

Four words were written on the wall.

I

L-O-V-E

Y-O-U

D-R-A-C-O

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

There was something off. Hermione could tell there was something weird in the portrait of Harry that the mediwizard was slowly painting with words – how her friend had stopped making himself bleed.

"Where's Draco?" she asked, half-innocently. "Does he know what Harry has achieved?"

The wizard in front of her cleared his throat. Ron took her hand and squeezed her fingers.

"Bad news?" The mediwizard looked away. "That bad? Just... tell me."

"Draco Malfoy has not spoken in a month. He has been slowly falling into a pattern that can only be described as a severe case of mental disease."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Molly Weasley demanded to see Draco. They had already seen Harry, she reasoned, and it seemed the blond needed their presence too. It didn't matter they had been told that Draco wouldn't recognize them – Molly needed to see his boy, for Draco had become her family too.

The cell next to Harry's had red stripes decorating three of the walls. The fourth was the transparent wall through which Harry could be seen. Draco was sitting on the floor, hugging his knees, rocking back and forth – in the same fashion Harry had been.

It was Ron who asked the dreaded question.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"What's wrong with him?"

But Hermione knew, she knew it in the same way she'd known bad things were coming their way when Draco announced his intentions. She knew that Draco was suffering whatever it was that Harry had. "It's the same as Harry, isn't it?" she asked in a low, muttering voice.

"It's a Muggle disease called schizophrenia. We are still trying to discover what stage Mr. Malfoy is in, but it's difficult. It seems he is---"

"---getting worse as Harry gets better," provided Hermione again. "They've always complemented each other. Their love is just that powerful."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

She was sure Draco could hear her, that there was a connection between them – there had been during the war, and it didn't seem to have faded when it ended.

"Come on, Draco, please," she begged. "It's been another month, and Harry is almost healed, he'll be fine. You can come back to us now. Please."

Still no response from the blond. Meanwhile, in the other room, Harry was writing on the wall again, words that didn't go unnoticed to Hermione Granger.

H-E

I-S

S-A-V-I-N-G

M-E

She understood so suddenly, so forcefully, the power of her own thought frightening her.


	9. The Strength Within

"He has entered Harry's mind." There was a loud, general gasp in her direction when Hermione shared her conclusions. "I don't know when it happened exactly, but Draco is inside Harry's mind. That's why he's weakening; he is helping Harry recover."

"It can be," said one of the mediwizards, not completely sure. "But the kind of bond necessary for---"

"Their bond is strong enough," Ron assured them. "It's like a fire that cannot be put out; it started when they were too young to recognise the feeling. They fell so fast, so hard... That makes their love almost unbreakable."

*-*-*-*-*-*

Draco sat in front of the crystal wall separating his white cell from Harry's when Hermione entered the room. She sat next to him, hugging her knees, and rested her chin on them. "I know what you're doing," she said, not expecting a response. "The mediwizards say there's no precedent of recovery in your situation... it's like free-falling without an anchor... If only I could find a way to take you both out of there..."

Draco lifted a shaky hand, pointing towards Harry in the other room, the only sign of life in his emaciated body. She nodded in understanding.

*-*-*-*-*-*

Hermione looked at Harry while he stared at the white wall that was repainted every single night. She had never succeeded in communicating with her friend – only Draco had been able to. She sighed. "Harry, please help me. No one believes me when I tell them what I see. Please, Harry, show me the way to take you both back from your hell."

Harry was still non responsive. Hermione made to stand up, defeated, when she paid attention to the immaculate white of the wall. She changed her mind and, with a flick of her wand, went for the fall.

*-*-*-*-*-*

With the newness of the season came unexpected surprises, Ron noticed one bright morning.

Harry had less and less violent attacks; his injuries were disappearing to his friends' relief. Draco, however, was in the same state he had been the whole summer – silent, lost in his own thoughts.

On the other hand, the new fall brought news to the Weasley family – Hermione was pregnant. With her new condition, she had renewed her efforts in helping her friends. She was not going to leave them.

Not when she had already found the way to get them back to the real world.


	10. Travelling Across

"It's the only way, Ron. I can't do it, unless you want me to miscarry, and I know you don't want me to, so..."

"Hermione Jane Granger-Weasley!"

"Don't play the 'I'm-angry-as-hell' card on me. You know I'm right, Ron. You need them back as badly as I do, so please help with this?"

"The potion will taste awful, I'm sure."

"Draco didn't share the details with me, but I guess so. I will make it up to you when you come back, you know. And I'm not going to leave you alone; I'll monitor every step you take in there."

*-*-*-*-*-*

Hermione stirred the potion in her cauldron while Ron spied through a slit of the curtains separating her working room from the rest of the house. "It smells foul, 'Mione. Are you sure this is going to work?"

"Ronald, please! I've gone to Knockturn Alley and blackmailed the shopkeeper just to get the ingredients of the damned potion! I'm pretty sure it is going to work, since I threatened to use one of my war spells on his noble parts if it didn't."

"Oh." Ron shivered – he remembered quite well the effects of Hermione's wrath during the war. "Okay, then."

*-*-*-*-*-*

"So, all I have to do is swallow this and wait till it works?"

"More or less. It seems you'll be able to travel through space and time and reach them in Harry's mind, if that's there where they are."

Ron looked at his wife, slightly confused. " _If it's where they are_? _If_? 'Mione, aren't you sure where they are?"

"No, I'm not," confessed the witch, lowering her gaze, fearing to meet his surely angry eyes. "But I thought it was worth a try..."

Ron sighed and nodded. Definitely it was worth anything, if he could get his friends back.

*-*-*-*-*-*

Harry was sitting on his bed, rocking back and forth though not making himself bleed anymore; Draco stood up against the opposite wall, looking annoyed, sharing with his lover the same space for the first time in long months. There was no interaction between them, not even a shared glance – they were, purposely or not, ignoring each other.

On the outside, Hermione was caressing her slightly bulky abdomen."The mediwizards say that Harry's violent episodes are almost non-existent as of lately, which is great. He's nearly healed, so what we have to do is rescue Draco, and we'll save Harry too."

*-*-*-*-*-*

Ron rested his head against the glass separating the room from the corridor, looking inside. "Are we doing the right thing?" he wondered aloud. "Draco would kill me if he were aware of what I'm about to do."

"What do you prefer, facing an irate Draco or going on with you life knowing you could have helped?" Hermione asked in soft voice, barely a whisper. "Ask yourself, Ron, and listen to your own conscience."

Ron bit his lip as if thinking hard, and finally he nodded. "I'm doing it."

He took the vial from her hands and gulped the liquid.  



	11. Room With A View

There was no window where Ron landed, nothing at all but a complete darkness and the feeling that he didn't belong there. He stretched out his hands, his fingers touching what felt like a bricked wall. He traced a pattern while searching for his wand with his free hand. He manoeuvred until his back touched the wall and cast a simple _Lumos_ to shed some light around himself.

"There has to be a way out of here," he mused, and as if on cue, a door appeared magically at his left. Without thinking, he grabbed the knob and opened it.

*-*-*-*-*-*

The corridor the door led to was as dark as the room Ron had just left. He kept on walking, his wand lifted over his head so it lit the way, his mind fixed on one single thought.

He had to find Harry and Draco, and make them go back to where they belonged. Back home.

But the lack of windows scared him a bit, everything so different from what he had imagined. He knew he was inside a part of Harry's mind, so he had expected lots of colours, light and smiles, not this sad excuse for a corridor.

*-*-*-*-*-*

The windowless corridor ended abruptly in another door, smaller and darker than the one he had openend without thinking. This time again, he touched the knob, but didn't need to push the wood – it opened effortlessly, showing a much clearer room with windows, some plants and a couch. There was nobody in it, but he could hear voices coming from somewhere outside.

He walked towards the window and watched the scene unfolding before his eyes, unable to believe it.

He was watching as Draco took Harry in his arms and kissed him under the light of a bright summer sun.


	12. Travelling Souls

Ron was about to interrupt the intimate moment when he Heard a low moan coming from up the stairs. At first he thought it was his own imagination, but when he could distinctly hear a _Draco_ , fearing not, Ron turned right and climbed up the stairs he had not noticed at first.

At the end of the stairs, Ron could see a closed door and a lone figure sitting miserably on the floor, rocking back and forth. Everything was darkened by the lack of light, so he didn't recognize the other person until he was almost by his side.

Harry.

*-*-*-*-*

Ron ran towards his friend. He knelt besides Harry, carefully avoiding all contact, for he didn't know how the other wizard would react.

"Harry?"

The brunet shot up his head and looked at Ron as if he was seeing a ghost. "Ron, what are you doing here?"

"I came to rescue you, but there are two different _yous_!"

"The other is just a memory… and I think I'm just a soul."

"Where's Draco? I don't see him around."

"Draco's in there… I cannot open the door…"

Ron looked at the closed door and noticed a faint light coming through it.

*-*-*-*-*

"Okay," Ron tried to calm Harry's soul, who had resumed his rocking movement. Hermione had warned him about the dangers of this mission – about how he would meet souls instead of people. He thanked her silently for giving him another vial with more potion, just in case he may need more time. "I will cast a spell and then we will come back together."

"But how?"

"Trust me, Harry. I can do this."

Ron grabbed his wand and whispered _Alohomora_ , secretly hoping to be right. The door resisted at first, but then he felt it slowly opening, and smiled. "Brilliant!"

*-*-*-*-*

Ron had to push Harry's soul inside, but once they were in, everything just seemed to fit. At first he felt the pulling of the finishing spell that kept him in that universe; quickly he gulped the remnants of the potion and grinned. "Now, where's Draco?"

The room was dark and seemed empty, but Ron knew better. Scanning every corner, he spotted Draco sitting in the very same fashion he used to in the real world. "C'mon, Harry, let's bring you both back!"

"I still don't---"

"Go get him. I can't touch him."

Harry's soul walked unsteadily towards Draco.

*-*-*-*-*

"What do you mean, you can't touch him? You've touched me," the brunet's soul asked, turning around to face Ron before reaching the corner where Draco was sitting. "We're both souls!"

"No, he is not," Ron explained in a low voice. "He came here just like me, and that's why I can't touch him."

"You are not a soul, then. So, how did you come here? And how are we coming back?"

"Hermione," Ron shrugged, always keeping an eye on Draco who seemed unaware of their presence. "Please, Harry, get him and I'll take us back home."

The brunet obliged.

*-*-*-*-*

Ron saw the transformation in Draco's skin – what was pale, and had become almost gray in that hostile universe, suddenly turned bright, as if a light had been switched on inside of him.

"Draco," Harry's soul whispered.

"How did you enter this room?" Draco asked, looking up and frowning. "I made sure you couldn't, so you'd be out of here as soon as possible!"

"Ron came," Harry's soul pointed at the red head behind him. "He had a wand, and he opened the door you locked. He's taking us back!"

"This is just another hallucination," Draco muttered. "You're not real."

*-*-*-*-*

Ron shook his head. "There's no time, Harry. I need to initiate the spell before I run out of time."

Harry's soul looked back and forth between Draco and Ron – choosing between love and friendship, between illness and health, between darkness and light. In the end, he made up his mind, grabbed Draco's arm and pulled him towards Ron. "Everything will be fine when you take us back, right?" he asked, trying not to keep his hopes up.

"I don't know if it'll be perfect, but at least you won't be locked away in St. Mungo's."

"We're at the hospital?"

*-*-*-*-*

"Yes, you are. They don't know what happened to you, but Hermione found out your soul was trapped in another universe, and Draco tried to come here before she had mastered the potion. In fact, Draco," Ron looked straight at the blond. "Hermione will kill you with her bare hands once you are back."

Once his empty threat was said, Ron held his wand and pronounced slowly and clearly the spell. " _Regressus Animae_ ," he said a second after Harry, holding Draco tightly against his chest and not paying attention to the blond's wriggling, had wrapped a hand around Ron's wrist.

*-*-*-*-*

The feeling of being pulled through several layers in different universes was similar to that of using a Portkey. The weight of Draco's body and the resistance of Harry's soul made it very difficult for Ron to keep them close to him. Struggling not to lose contact with Harry's hand around his wrist, Ron tried to focus on their next step as they crossed the last universe so fast he could hardly recognize anything apart from the passing doors he had to ignore in order to reach the only one which would allow them to go back to their world.

*-*-*-*-*

Ron knew something was wrong the moment the supposed last frontier opened for them. Everything was dark at the other side of the door, and it was impossible to know whether they would land in St. Mungo's waiting room or in the Death Chamber.

 _Travelling with souls is surely a pain_ , he thought, while manoeuvring around the darkness to avoid bumping into anything unexpected.

Then, when Ron could see a light, a strange force pulled at Harry, taking him and Draco away. The red head crossed the treshold, falling into Hermione's arms. He screamed, frustrated.

He was all alone.


	13. Recovery

Hermione tried to calm the raging Ron that had landed in her arms. She wanted to reason with him, but Ron, she noticed, was rapidly becoming hysteric with the fact that he had seemingly lost Harry and Draco.

When Ron interrupted the beginning of her speech for the third time with a whining _I can't believe this shit!_ , Hermione smacked him in the head.

"Hey, what was that for?"

"I couldn't resist," she explained. "Now, if you let me talk, I think I can clarify this situation."

Ron stopped complaining and stood still, waiting for his wife to start talking.

*-*-*-*-*-*

"Harry's soul couldn't have crossed that last barrier," she said. "This is a world for bodies, not for free souls. So, his soul remained in a world far from our reach but close enough for him to get a hold of it. Now, he is not locked in his own memory."

"But Draco? I lost him in a universe of souls!"

"I was sure he would come back with you, but he wasn't exactly a soul as his body had remained in this world. It's more complex than it seemed."

"What is he going to do?"

"I hope he resists."

*-*-*-*-*-*

The following morning found the couple before the white cells where Harry and Draco lived. Draco still looked grim and famished, as it he hadn't eaten in days. Harry, on the other hand, seemed to have improved. He was writing on his wall, a smile on his lips.

T-H-A-N-K-S

As Ron and Hermione observed through the glassy surface separating them from their friends, Draco stood up, shaking some of his medicine-induced stupor out, and walked towards Harry.

Suddenly, he stopped on a halt, screaming in pain and struggling to breathe. Ron hastily called a mediwizard.

"Resist," whispered a teary-eyed Hermione.

*-*-*-*-*-*

When the help came, Draco was sprawled on the floor. Hermione witnessed silently as everything seemed to happen in slow motion, as Ron entered the room with the healers to immobilise the blonde, as shreds of her own soul were pulled out at the sight.

"Draco's lost the part of his soul necessary to reach Harry!" she realised. She'd moved to get inside when she heard a yell.

"Please resist, please don't leave me! Draco!"

Every head turned towards the source of the sound, to find red paint smeared across a glass and desperate green eyes.

Harry had come back.


	14. No Time Left

The darkness had disappeared the moment Ron had let go of him. In the blur of movement surrounding him, Harry had lost his grasp on Draco to keep on falling till he thought he would hit the ground. However, there was nothing to stop his falling, and he was dragged towards the end of the world he had been living in for months.

He grew conscious of his improvement when he could write what he was thinking. Not knowing a better way to thank Hermione for helping him, he wrote it on his wall.

T-H-A-N-K-S

Harry Potter smiled once again.

*-*-*-*-*-*

At the other side of the mirror separating him from Draco, Harry could hear uproar rising. He felt a sting in his heart, as though it was being stabbed by an invisible knife, cutting until reaching the very core of his being. Harry turned around and witnessed as the love of his life fell to the ground, writhing in a silent, horrible torture.

He didn't fight the force that dragged him to the mirror; his hands, smeared in red, dirtied the surface; his voice carried out towards the spot where Draco tried to survive.

"Please, resist! Please, don't leave me!"

*-*-*-*-*-*

He was surprised his voice kept the same tone and strength it had before he stopped talking altogether. But he didn't pay much attention to that fact, not when Draco was, as Hermione had said, losing his soul. Harry had seen soulless bodies , and he knew Draco didn't deserve that end.

He began to stomp the window, threatening to break it in millions of pieces, until he dragged the attention of a couple of mediwizards.

Once the door was unlocked, Harry became a man with the mission of saving the wizard who had risked his life to save Harry's.

*-*-*-*-*-*

Harry approached Draco, kneeling besides him with no time left to analyse the effect his actions would have on the blonde. He was feeling that part of his soul wanted to be freed – it scared him to no end to lose even a tiny part of it, but the invisible force was dragging him forwards, inviting him to touch Draco. He didn't think.

Harry leant in and kissed Draco softly, feeling his soul oddly melting with what he knew was Draco's soul. He wished the moment could drag on forever, but suddenly he was being pulled away from the blonde.

*-*-*-*-*-*

The mediwizards around Harry tried to move him further away from Draco, who was lying still and quietly for the first time. The brunette dragged his feet as he walked, barely hearing the scolding speech of a healer, as Hermione looked for comfort in Ron's arms, as his heart kept on beating at the same time as Draco's. "Harry, are you listening?" the healer dragged him down.

"What do you think?" he answered bitterly.

"I think I'll kill you if you leave me ever again," said a feeble voice from the floor.

Everyone turned around to see Draco looking back.


	15. The End Of The Line

"We don't know what happened," a healer tried to explain to the Weasleys crowding the waiting room. "We are still in process---"

"I know exactly what they both suffered from," Hermione announced, a hand on her growing belly. "I'll gladly explain, if you allow us to visit them.

"For real?" Once Hermione reassured him, the healer called out for a nurse. "Harmony! Please guide Mr. And Mrs. Weasley to Mr. Potter's room."

"Which one of them?" Harmony asked, gesturing towards the Weasley family.

"All of them. I think our patients can handle this."

Everyone followed Harmony across the corridor.

*-*-*-*-*-*

"It's really simple," Hermione said before entering the room. "But first I need to check something."

Harmony granted them access in pairs – Hermione and Ron entered first. They saw as Harry and Draco slept peacefully in their twin beds, blissfully unaware of the world outside. Hermione sighed softly at the matching smiles in their faces. "It's all about harmony of souls," she stated. "Harry's soul was lost and Draco decided to sacrifice a part of his to save Harry."

"I don't think I understand," Ron whispered, confused. "Did I lose a part of my soul too?"

"No, Ron, you didn't."

*-*-*-*-*-*

"My potion guaranteed that you kept your soul tightly joined to your body, which Draco's didn't. You helped them to come back, but Draco got astray at some point."

"He was about to lose his soul completely. And Harry saved him by..."

"Bonding their souls." Hermione smiled fondly. "It's the greatest sacrifice, Ron. Now, Harry and Draco are effectively one, as they share a soul."

"And that means..."

"That they'll live in harmony; they'll have their own _happily ever after_."

Ron looked at his friends, trying to imagine how it felt to lose one's soul.

He shivered at the thought.

*-*-*-*-*-*

"And the spell that hit Mr. Potter?" asked Harmony. "It's known that Bellatrix Lestrange attacked him."

"It was an ancient hex only found in Dark books," Hermione offered. "There are some advantages of teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts..."

Harry tossed in his bed, and so did Draco, both awakening slowly. "Hey," Harry said.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine, now that I have no voices in my head telling me what to feel."

"That was the spell too," Ron adventured.

Hermione nodded and watched as Draco turned towards Harry with sleepy eyes.

"Don't leave me ever again."

All was well.


	16. Melted Souls (Epilogue)

The world isn't black or white. There are several shades of grey in between, layers of lies and truths, of hope and desperation. This is the story about how we vanquished fear once and for all.

Now there's no telling where he ends and where I begin. We're one, with no place left for fear or betrayal, for betraying him would mean betraying the true essence of my soul.

I will never think of leaving again, as long as he keeps waking me up every morning with his favourite words.

I love you.

 _Prologue of_ Melted Souls _by Draco Malfoy_


End file.
